


A Poetic Retelling of An Unfortunate Seduction

by burymeinziam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Infidelity, M/M, im not even sure what else to tag this as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:46:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burymeinziam/pseuds/burymeinziam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But it’s always night and there is no moon / And you wonder if you are still alive / And you’re not sure if you want to be / But you drink her sweat like it was wine / And you lay with her on a bed of blue / And it’s awful sweet / Like the fruit she cuts and feeds to you</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ACT I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It starts with a night at the pub with Niall and Zayn stepping outside into the cool November air and dialing Liam’s number because he’s always thought his name sounded prettier at two am when Liam’s voice was tired and filled with sleep

It starts with soft smiles and small waves of their hands from across the room even though it wouldn’t be completely normal for them greet each other with words.

It starts with shy brushes of their fingertips that send shivers up their spines and Liam think his head might be spinning.

It starts with a night at the pub with Niall and Zayn stepping outside into the cool November air and dialing Liam’s number because he’s always thought his name sounded prettier at two am when Liam’s voice was tired and filled with sleep.

(“ _’Lo?_ ”

“ _Liam?”_

A pause, a sigh; the sound of shuffling blankets and a sleepy boy settling deeper into the pillows.

“ _Zayn._ ”)

It starts with Zayn being a little too drunk and loose with his feelings while he’s standing around outside shivering but trying not to let it show through his voice. He’s kind of waiting on Niall who is inside chatting up some girl he met at the bar, but Zayn almost wants Niall to stay in there forever because Liam is on the other line and it’s two am in November and it’s Liam.

(“ _it’s two in the morning, Zayn._ ”

“ _I know._ ”

“ _Did you need something?_ ”

Zayn’s voice is quiet and everything is sort of running together, but Liam doesn’t miss a single word.

“ _No. I just wanted – I missed the sound of your voice._ ”)

It starts with Zayn feeling like the wind is chilling him to the bone and his teeth are chattering a little because he hadn’t thought to bring a jacket, but Liam’s voice feels warm on the other line and Zayn can picture him wrapped up in thick blankets, head cushioned in his pillows while he listens to Zayn go on about things he probably won’t ever remember saying.

(“ _I think I like your smile best_ ,” Zayn says.

“ _What are you talking about_?”

“ _When you say my name and you smile_.” There’s a pause and Zayn sighs, runs a hand through his hair. He kicks a rock with the toe of his boot as his lips curve upward. “ _That’s what I like best_.”)

It stars with Liam not knowing what all of this means because this is so different from lingering glances and hugs that may or may not last a little longer than necessary. This is Zayn calling him pretty at two in the morning and Liam laughing breathlessly into his phone because he isn’t sure of what to say in return.

It starts with Niall inviting Zayn out for a night on the town because they’re both single and Zayn is the perfect wingman because he mostly stands off to the side and doesn’t get involved. It starts with Niall shoving a beer into Zayn’s empty hands and then another and another and there may have been some karaoke. Then there was that girl with pixie cut and the lopsided smile and she and Niall started talking and for some reason her eyes reminded Zayn of Liam and his phone felt so heavy in his pocket.

It starts with Niall and a little liquid courage around two am in November.

(“ _Why’d you call me, Zayn?_ ”

And Zayn sings because he’s still a little drunk and Liam makes him feel free.

“ _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…_ ”

And that sort of says it all.)

It progresses with three am rolling around and Niall stumbling out of the bar with the girl with the pixie cut and asking if Zayn is alright catching a cab home. Zayn chuckles at Niall waggling his eyebrows and nods his head in return. He doesn’t miss the way Niall eyes the phone pressed against his ear and appreciates that Niall doesn’t ask about it because while Zayn is feeling loose and free he isn’t sure how to explain phoning Liam at this hour just because he wanted to talk.

And then Niall is leaving, leading pixie cut to his car and opening the passenger’s side door so she can slide in and Zayn smiles because even filled to the brim with alcohol Niall is still a gentleman and that is something to appreciate. And Zayn is picturing himself and Liam stumbling out of a bar, arms wrapped around the other’s shoulder as they laugh and lose their balance. He imagines falling against the side of his car and feeling the warmth of Liam’s body pressed against his own and even though it isn’t really happening Zayn still thinks it feels like home.

(“ _I’d open the car door for you, you know,_ ” Zayn says into the phone when he feels like it’s been too long.

“ _Huh?_ ” Liam’s voice is tired and sort of far away, but he’s still there.

“ _I’d open the door, and I’d help you inside, and I’d hold your hand the entire way to home even if I was almost too drunk to drive._ ”

Liam doesn’t speak right away because the way his heart feels too heavy in his chest. He can feel the words in his throat, but he’s almost too afraid to set them free. He’s not as loose and carefree as Zayn. He doesn’t have that warm feeling of alcohol coursing through his veins to make him be so candid. He’s afraid of the morning after and the possibility of an adjustment to his and Zayn’s relationship. Liam is afraid of losing it all.

But there’s also the memory of Zayn just wanting to hear his voice and the simplicity of a song that said more than a long winded conversation ever could.

“ _Come over?_ ” Liam asks and his voice is small and not entirely confident, but he somehow knows that Zayn knows he means it.

“ _Okay._ ”)

It progresses with Zayn calling a cab and riding down to Liam’s apartment. His stomach is turning but not in a way that is entirely unpleasant so much as it is simply making him aware of everything that is happening. His phone buzzes in his pocket and when the screen lights up he sees a message from Liam.

( _Just for the record, I like your smile best too._ )

The words are simple and not particularly eloquent or poetic. Zayn can feel the nerves that must have been leaping from Liam’s fingers as he tapped out the message into his phone because Liam doesn’t just say things like that. He’s sincere and he means every word that makes it from his brain to his lips or from his mind to paper, but Liam is also shy and so very afraid of putting himself out there.

Zayn grins, types out a quick response

( _You make me smile_ _J_ )

And slides the phone back into his pocket.

It progresses to the can pulling up in front of Liam’s apartment building and Zayn tossing forty bucks to the driver before climbing out and dialing Liam’s number so he can buzz Zayn in.

(“ _I’m outside._ ”

“ _Yeah?_ ”

“ _Yeah._ ”

“ _Okay._ ”)

Then Zayn is climbing the stairs to the fourth floor because while the elevator would have been quicker, he has too much extra energy and he doesn’t want to come on too strong.

Because even though he’s never said so much in words, Liam is kind of perfect in Zayn’s eyes and he doesn’t want to fuck this up. The alcohol is also starting to wear off and Zayn’s legs are starting to feel heavier with each step he takes and his mind is racing but not in that way that feels hazy and fuzzy and like he’s floating but in that way where everything is moving way too fast and Zayn is beginning to think that he can’t keep up.

But Liam’s door is right there and all Zayn has to do is knock and he’ll be there

Standing

Probably wearing those ratty old sweatpants that hang way too low on his hips

Rumpled with sleep

Zayn’s name on his lip dripping smooth like honey.

(“ _Zayn._ ”

“ _Liam_.”

And then Zayn is stepping inside and Liam is closing the door behind him and even though neither of them know what they’re doing it doesn’t really matter.)

It progresses with them sitting awkwardly on Liam’s couch, two glasses of water situated on the coffee table while Liam twiddles his thumbs and Zayn stares like he’s seeing this boy for the very first time.

Zayn’s head is still sort of swimming even though he’s very much aware of where he is and what he wants to do. He knows what he wants and he knows how much it will change everything he and Liam know when it comes to them and where they stand and what they are.

Zayn knows how much he wants to reach out and touch Liam and to have Liam touch him back. He knows he wants to feel Liam sigh against his skin and to hear his name getting lost in a single exhale of air.

And then Liam is looking up and his smile is sweet and shy and so very _Liam_ and Zayn’s heart feels like it’s starting and stopping and starting and stopping and then

(“ _You really think I’m pretty?_ ”

Liam thinks he sounds like a fourteen-year-old girl with the way he’s phrased the question, but then Zayn is ducking his head and he’s doing that nervous laugh where he rubs the back of his neck and drags his hand over his hair before he looks back to Liam and nods his head.

“ _The prettiest._ ”)

It progresses to gentle, nervous touches and promises of this not changing anything between them, not really. They’re just learning more and exploring each other and this is natural and normal. It’s Zayn’s fingers skirting over Liam’s cheeks and Liam’s face settling into the palm of Zayn’s hand.

It’s their eyes locking as they drift closer and closer together until eye contact doesn’t become awkward so much as it becomes too much.

It’s electricity when their lips meet and it’s Zayn feeling as though Liam has taken him apart and put him back together into a new and improved version of himself and Liam feeling as though he’s been sleeping for his whole life and Zayn has finally woke him up.

It progresses to not really knowing how to navigate and feeling lost but in a completely new way. It’s being lost in each other and tripping and stumbling and fumbling around. It’s Liam laughing when he goes to kiss Zayn and catches his nose instead of his lips and Zayn grabbing Liam’s face in his hands and kissing him all over again.

(“ _You’re cute._ ”

Liam blushes, lowers his gaze and shrugs his shoulders.

He feels embarrassed, but then he remembers that this is Zayn and that shouldn’t even matter and it really doesn’t.

Liam looks up, grins.

“ _I guess._ ”)

It progresses to Zayn thinking that it shouldn’t be this easy but it is. It shouldn’t be so easy to make out with his best friend because things like that usually get messy and it’s always one or the other and never both.

But Liam’s hands feel right tickling the skin just beneath his bellybutton as his hands nervously inch their way up Zayn’s shirt and when it’s pulled over his head and Liam’s eyes hungrily rake over the exposed skin Zayn thinks that maybe he and Liam aren’t conventional and maybe it really is just this easy.

It progresses to less clothes and more skin and exploratory touches and sharp intakes of air. It’s Liam feeling bold when he climbs off the couch and leads Zayn to his bedroom. It’s nervous and scared, but calm and comfortable. It’s this and that and everything in between.

(“ _I’ve never done this._ ”

Zayn swallows. He knows what Liam is talking about but he asks anyways.

“ _What? Sex?_ ”

Liam swats Zayn’s shoulder, his fingers leaving a light red mark that fades away after a few seconds. Zayn thinks of the other ones littering his skin, and the marks just like them that he left on Liam, that won’t fade so quickly.

“ _You know what I mean._ ”

Zayn nods, touches one of the hickey’s on Liam’s collar bone, lets his fingers drag downward until they’re resting at Liam’s hip. “ _Me neither._ ”

Liam inhales, exhales, and Zayn watches the rise and fall in his chest. “ _But I trust you._ ”

And Zayn looks up, meets Liam’s gaze, and smiles; reassuring.

“ _Me too._ ”)

It progresses to Liam feeling so undeniably full and a little uncomfortable, but feeling safe with Zayn draped across his back with his arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. It’s the safety of Zayn’s breath ghosting across the back of his neck and knowing that this is as close as they’ll ever be.

It’s Liam feeling a strange sense of gratitude at being able to hand himself over in such a way and knowing that Zayn had been willing to do the same.

It’s Zayn feeling the clench of Liam wrapped all around him and the warmth and the drag of skin on skin. It’s looking down and seeing the connection he’s always felt to this boy – this separate human being who had somehow taken ahold of him without Zayn ever realizing – and never wanting to move because the second he does Zayn knows it will be that much closer to being over.

But he does and Zayn can see the in and out, the push and the pull. He can hear Liam panting, see him white knuckling the sheets. Zayn can feel his name on Liam’s lips, relishes in the way it sounds so broken and raw when Liam speaks it out loud.

The thing is, it isn’t necessarily that it feels good on Liam’s part. It’s awkward and foreign and unlike anything Liam has ever experienced. It’s invasive and intrusive and like Zayn is forcing his way into parts of Liam he never thought he’d let anyone into.

But it’s Zayn and Liam is essentially letting him reduce him to this wrecked mess of a boy being pressed deep into the mattress. And it’s just as much as an invasion as it is an invitation and Liam doesn’t really understand any of it despite the fact that it feels so right.

And maybe that’s all that matters because when Zayn shudders and breaks Liam can feel it all and it all feels so up close and personal. It’s like Zayn is giving him something in return – something more than just semen and seeing Zayn lying sated and so completely gone on the bed next to him. It’s like Zayn is handing over a part of himself as well.

It progresses to lying naked and sleepy, Zayn’s ringing soft and soothing in Liam’s ears as their fingers tangle together in the sheets.

(“ _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey…_ ”

Liam laughs, slow and easy and quiet as he rolls over to face Zayn, pressing his knuckles to his lips. It’s different this time because Zayn is here and he’s not all that drunk and even though Liam knows he meant it over the phone, it feels so much clearer in person.

“ _You never know dear, how much I love you…”_

Zayn’s eyes are hopeful and serious when he says it and Liam doesn’t miss the way his voice cracks a bit near the end. It’s a confession and Zayn is trusting him with it even though they both know this is messy and complicated and maybe not the best decision.

But Liam smiles anyways, kisses the spot just over Zayn’s heart and nods his head because he means it. Liam sinks into the pillows, his head pressed into the space between Zayn’s neck and shoulder. He breathes in sex and sweat and cigarettes and somehow this feels more like home than any place ever has.

“ _Please don’t take my sunshine away…_ ”)


	2. ACT II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the beginning it’s just like fucking because neither of them really want to deal with the emotions tied to the words that were spoken under the guise of early morning and the remnants of intoxication. It’s not a question of truth or validity because Zayn knows what the fast paced beating of his heart and the look of undeniable adoration in Liam’s eyes means.

In the beginning it’s just like fucking.

It’s more than fucking, but it’s fucking all the same.

Mostly because they know how to say more with their bodies than they do with their words. Liam doesn’t know how to tell Zayn that he’s pretty much one of the best things to ever happen to him but he knows how thread his fingers through Zayn’s hair, drag his lips over his collarbone before lingering over that space just over Zayn’s heart.

(“ _Fuck, Liam._ ”

Liam is hovering, his body radiating heat and Zayn hadn’t been cold beforehand but it’s like Liam is warming him from the inside out and Zayn is on fire.)

They don’t talk about it because they don’t really need to. They are what they are – whatever that is – and that’s exactly what it is. At least that’s what Zayn thinks because he doesn’t like labels and constraints. He likes Liam and his lips and his smile and the way his fingers brush over his skin whenever he’s too shy.

Zayn doesn’t know how to say “I love you” in words because he’s never had a reason. He’d tried that night after the pub and he’s pretty sure Liam got it, but sometimes Zayn can’t be too sure and all he can really do is hope.

(“ _Come over?_ ” Liam asks over the phone one afternoon.

“ _Now?_ ” Zayn asks, but he’s already searching the living room for his left shoe.

_“Yeah,”_ Liam says. “ _Can you?”_

His breathing is a little shallow, coming out in short huffs of air and Zayn is a little suspicious. _“Li?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Are you…?”_

_“Yeah,”_ he answers, groans softly into the phone. _“I missed you.”_

And then Zayn is reaching, feels himself stirring in his jeans. “ _Mmm,”_ he responds around a sigh. “ _Me too.”_ )

In the beginning it’s just like fucking because neither of them really want to deal with the emotions tied to the words that were spoken under the guise of early morning and the remnants of intoxication. It’s not a question of truth or validity because Zayn knows what the fast paced beating of his heart and the look of undeniable adoration in Liam’s eyes means.

He knows that means love.

But Zayn also knows that it could never work.

They’re just starting to make it big and there are cameras and eyes watching their every move. There’s a blond sitting at the table across from them and Niall keeps nudging Zayn’s arm and nodding in her direction.

And yeah, she’s pretty and she’s smiling at him when she offers up one of those shy sort of waves that serve as an invitation.

And yeah, maybe Zayn does want to talk to her.

But then Liam is looking at him and looking at her and then back at Zayn again and his eyes are questioning like he’s wondering.

( _Are you really doing this? Is this really happening?_ )

And it’s the look on Liam’s face, that hurt, kicked, puppy dog sort of look – the one that says Liam feels like he’s been tossed aside like yesterday’s garbage, like he never even mattered – and the knowledge that he put it there. It’s the fact that the look on Liam’s face makes Zayn feel like shit; like he’s not worth more than used gum on the bottom of Liam’s sneaker that tells him that this is love.

And it’s the girl on the other side of the room and the knowledge that she could be so much easier that reminds Zayn that it could never work.

But it’s Liam’s smile.

It’s the relief that washes over his face when Zayn reaches out and takes his hand, comes so close to speaking the words he’s been so afraid to say out loud without the excuse of four am and an impending sunrise. It’s the warmth of Liam’s hands and his soul and the way it makes Zayn feel like he’s floating that make things like hard not matter.

It’s all those things and more that make Zayn want to try.

In the beginning it’s sex and confusion and not knowing exactly where they stand, but the middle is sort of perfect.

It’s Liam who says it first.

(“ _I love you._ ”

And Zayn momentarily freezes, and then his lips are curving up into an involuntary smile, and he lets his head fall onto Liam’s shoulder.

“ _I love you too.”_ )

It’s not the first time, but it’s the first time it’s really been spoken out loud and Zayn’s kind of surprised when it happens because it’s nothing like the way he’d imagined.

Mostly it’s because, before that moment, the only thing he and Liam ever really did was fuck. They fucked whenever the opportunity arose partially because they could but mostly because it was the only way they really knew how to connect.

They still talked and they still laughed and sometimes they held hands when the moment felt right but it was never comparable to the way Liam’s cock felt buried in to the hilt or the way Liam looked, lips wrapped tight around Zayn’s dick when their eyes locked just before Zayn came down his throat.

Nothing was like that.

But “I love you” comes pretty close.

(“ _You mean it?”_ Liam’s asking even though he already knows the answer; has known since the night of the pub when Zayn was sang soft and low in his ear ( _you are my sunshine, my only sunshine…_ ) until Liam drifted slowly into sleep.

He asks even though he already knows the answer just because he wants to hear Zayn say it out loud; to tell him that it’s true and that he loves him and that Liam’s the only one.

Because sometimes it’s hard to believe that someone like Zayn, beautifully mysterious Zayn with his golden eyes and a voice smooth as honey, Zayn with his heart and his mind and everything in between, would want someone as simple as Liam.

Zayn’s hands find Liam’s knee, gives it a gentle squeeze as he places a kiss to the crook of his neck. And it’s like he knows and instead of answering with a simple “yes” or an “always” it’s

“ _You make me happy when skies are gray…_ ”

And Liam knows it’s true.)

Pretty soon its things like clearing out drawers and having favorite coffee cups at each other’s apartments. It’s cuddling on the couch without the guise of an impending fuck on the living room floor or up against the counter in Zayn’s kitchen while they’re supposed to be making spaghetti.

“I love you,” Zayn says because he can and because he means it and it isn’t so scary anymore. He doesn’t know why it ever was because it wasn’t like Liam hadn’t always known and loved him back. As corny as Zayn may think it seems he sort of believes that this – whatever it is he has with Liam – was always supposed to happen.

It’s in his chest, the pull Zayn feels whenever Liam is near. It’s like their bound to each other and there’s no disconnecting them.

“You just wanna get in my pants,” Liam replies with a grin and a waggle of his eyebrows.

Zayn laughs, swats Liam’s shoulder.

It’s so easy, he thinks, being here in Liam’s apartment lying on the couch with his head resting in Liam’s lap. Every now and then he can feel fingers in his hair, hear Liam humming softly to himself. It’s natural and its home.

“Say you love me too?” Zayn asks, looking up.

It should sound stupid, asking; needy and desperate. But Zayn mostly just wants to hear the words and he knows Liam understands because there are times where Liam will just look at him and Zayn will know.

“Always,” Liam answers.

Zayn smiles.

+

People notice.

Niall and Harry and Louis look at them and they know and Zayn and Liam know that they know but nobody says anything because it’s not the sort of thing that gets talked about in the same way nobody ever mentions how Harry and Louis used to hook up when they were both equal parts drunk and lonely.

But they notice and they can tell that it’s deep and more than just the closet fuck Harry and Louis shared at Niall’s brother’s wedding.

One time Niall tries.

(“ _So, uh, you and Liam?”_ )

He brings it up casual; like it’s nothing, but his eyes tell Zayn that it’s something and that small fact puts Zayn on edge.

( _“What about me and Liam?”_ )

Zayn feels defensive because he doesn’t want to have to explain. He doesn’t know how to tell Niall that Liam is pretty much everything. It’s not that Niall would judge or that he wouldn’t understand because Zayn knows that even if Niall didn’t necessarily approve he would be nothing but supportive.

It’s just that Liam isn’t something that Zayn wants to have to explain or justify. He doesn’t want to have to tell people that Liam is basically the world for Zayn. He wants to be able to _be_ with Liam and have nothing else factor into that.

( _“That’s a thing isn’t it?”_

Those are the words that sort of set it off;

“a thing”

It sounds so temporary and unimportant. Like Liam is just some passing fad, like a top 40 hit or that new taco place around the corner from Zayn’s apartment.

“a thing”

And Zayn wants to vomit because it probably does look that way considering the fact that Zayn never did relationships before this. It makes sense because even before they said those three words out loud, Zayn was feeling them and he still looked at that girl in the restaurant and thought about how it would be so much easier.

“a thing”

Because Zayn knows that Liam is it and wants to give Liam the world, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t scared. It doesn’t mean that, in the back of his head, he doesn’t hear that nagging voice telling him that this is only temporary and that it could never last.

“ _Zayn?”_

He looks up, sees Niall’s curious gaze and shrugs his shoulders.

_“It is what it is.”_ )

The problem is, it’s almost too good to be true. Not just for Zayn, but for both of them.

The fact that things are perfect and that Zayn loves Liam and Liam loves Zayn and there is virtually no conflict aside from the fact that it’s too good to be true…

Liam thinks back to before when Zayn was just a boy he loved from afar and then to the present and he finds the change nearly impossible to believe. He wakes up most mornings surprised to find Zayn sleeping soundly next to him, mouth slightly open and his breath smelling like the new day.

And Liam loves him even more because despite his greatest fears, despite the fact that he’s constantly feeling as though he’s dreaming, Zayn is really there.

But sometimes Zayn gets this faraway look in his eyes, like he’s there but he’s also somewhere else and Liam worries.

( _“Zayn…”_

It takes a moment, a few more gentle calls of his name, before Zayn snaps back to attention and meets Liam’s gaze.

“ _Huh?”_

And Liam can see it, the fear and the worry, and its territory he doesn’t want to venture into.

_“Nothing.”)_

Liam worries because he knows what Zayn is thinking. Liam knows that Zayn is wondering when it’s all going to come crashing down around them. When their rose colored glasses will lose all their magic and they’ll be forced to see things as they really are.

He wonders how long friends can really be lovers without things getting complicated; how long you can love someone without knowing why or how or what it all means for the future.

Zayn wonders when fucking became making love and how long it will take to go back to the former.

Liam worries when he sees that faraway look in Zayn’s eyes because that look translates to doubt and that’s the last thing Liam wants.

Liam worries because he feels that look, he knows it well and he wears it on his sleeve.

Liam worries because sometimes he looks at Zayn and wonders the same thing: how long?

( _“Liam…”_

Zayn is reaching, like he’s begging; like he can feel Liam slipping and he only wants to hold on.

And Liam goes easily, falls into Zayn’s arms like it’s the only place he’d ever needed to be.)

It’s in the way Zayn holds him and the way Liam holds him back. It’s the way they say so much more with their bodies than they do with their words.

It’s fear and love and everything neither of them understand.

It’s Zayn gripping tight to Liam’s shirt because he doesn’t want this

( _“That’s a thing isn’t it?”_ )

to be another one of those ten minute relationships Zayn isn’t that much of a stranger to having. He doesn’t want Liam to be like one of those pretty girls with the inviting smiles.

But then Zayn looks at Liam and he thinks things were so much easier when it was four am and the trust in Liam’s eyes

(“ _I’ve never done this._ ” Liam inhales, exhales, and Zayn watches the rise and fall in his chest. “ _But I trust you._ ”)

was more reassuring and a blessing than it was an intimidating responsibility. Zayn misses the haze and the ease of their bodies and the way everything was all feeling and he wonders when that faded and turned into Zayn feeling as though can’t measure up.

It’s Zayn loving Liam

(“ _You are my sunshine….”_ )

And Liam not knowing what to do because sometimes it feels like four am isn’t all soft whispers and Zayn’s voice, sweet and gentle, bringing new meaning to songs from Liam’s childhood. Sometimes four am is the sun threatening to rise and bring light to all the cracks and empty crevices in their relationship. It’s Liam loving Zayn but also wondering when it’s all going to wear off because Zayn can only drunk dial him for so long.

It’s the fear of this being something huge and something great and so much bigger than either of them and not knowing how to handle it.

So Zayn holds him.

(“ _Liam…”_

And Liam goes easily, falls into Zayn’s arms like it’s the only place he’d ever needed to be.)

Zayn holds him and presses his face into Liam’s hair, savoring the smell and feel some a boy who has become so familiar; so much like home.

( _“you are my sunshine…”_ )

And Zayn hopes that Liam gets it, that he’s trying.

( _you make me happy when skies are gray…”)_

Liam clings back, grips tight onto Zayn’s shirt because he’s just as scared and he’s trying just as hard. And when he cranes his neck to look up, hopefully meet Zayn’s eyes, Zayn is smiling something sad and sweet and full of a love that Liam had never doubted.

( _“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you…”_

And Zayn pauses, kisses Liam once, twice, three times. “ _please—”_

Liam stops him, shakes his head before placing his hands on either side of Zayn’s face.

“ _I’m here.”_

There’s a pause and for a moment their just looking at each other, staring, drinking the other person in. Then Zayn is nodding, exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“ _Me too.”_

And that’s all either of them need to know.)


	3. ACT III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Zayn was the sun and every day the sun rises and it sets and, at some point, you always have to say goodbye. It’s bittersweet in some ways, seeing something greet you with such warmth only to watch it fade away later on, but that doesn’t make the experience any less beautiful or worth it."

One day Zayn wakes up and things are just different. It’s like everything rushing together at once and years of indifference and pretending as though nothing had ever changed had finally caught up and it hit Zayn like a wave.

He looks down at the body lying next to him and it’s not the same one he fell asleep next to the night before. The ache in his chest isn’t fond and welcome so much as it is exactly what it is: aching.

Zayn loves him so much it hurts and he doesn’t really want to do it anymore.

Liam stirs, snuffles in his sleep as he rolls over onto his back and Zayn still thinks he’s beautiful. He’s still in love with the way Liam’s nose wrinkles up as he’s being gently pulled from sleep, the way his lips part on an intake of air, and the soft noises of protest that slip past them as he struggles to find a more comfortable position.

Zayn still knows the patterns, realizes that Liam is still the same person that Zayn has taken to the time to learn better than himself. Zayn knows all of this, but he also knows that Liam is no longer really his. Liam is the same person, but he’s also something changing and morphing and growing and sometimes Zayn wonders if he can even keep up. Liam is something Zayn had begun to give up on a long time ago, maybe even from the very beginning.

Liam’s eyes crack open and he yawns, and stretches. When he looks up at where Zayn is sitting in bed he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Zayn realizes that isn’t really new either; hasn’t been for a while.

“Morning,” Liam says, his voice raw and a bit scratchy probably due to the way he was moaning and groaning when they’d fucked the night before, reverting to their old ways when they’d use sex as a metaphor for love when the words were way too much.

Zayn nods. “Morning.”

They’re still, neither of them sure of what to say. Conversation used to come easy. Liam used to grin and throw an arm over Zayn’s lap, tracing his fingers up and over Zayn’s navel, sliding an open palm over his chest dragging over either one of his nipples before pulling Zayn back down into bed. Zayn would go easily and let Liam pepper kisses over his skin, mumbling something about pancakes and coffee or an afternoon walk in the park that they both knew probably wouldn’t happen because Zayn hated the way the pond smelled.

But they might go for ice cream or maybe hunt for old comic stores in that bookstore Liam discovered downtown. Or maybe they’d stay in and pretend to watch a movie in the living room while they periodically made out under the blankets they’d bring in from their bedroom.

Whatever they did it wouldn’t matter because they’d be doing it together and that all that really mattered.

But now Zayn almost can’t stand being around Liam not because he hates him but because it hurts to look at someone and love them so much and yet have no idea who they really are.

And Zayn doesn’t know when that happened or where or how or why but it did.

“How long have you been up for?” Liam asks and this is him trying, forcing, reaching for anything.

Zayn shrugs. “Not long. Few minutes, maybe.” He looks at Liam; tries. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Liam answers with a nod and then laughs something empty as he looks back towards Zayn. “Feeling kind of sore today though.”

Zayn chuckles as well, feels his cheeks flush as he rubs at the back of his neck. There was a time when he would have smirked, maybe climbed on top of Liam and asked where all the sore spots were so he could kiss them all better. A time when Liam would have rubbed broad hands over Zayn’s thighs before naming various parts of his body and closing his eyes as Zayn’s lips traced over every mentioned piece of skin.

But this is different because now Zayn is feeling shy and slightly ashamed as though he’d done something wrong; like he isn’t allowed to make Liam feel this way the morning after, like the bruise decorating Liam’s collar bone shouldn’t even be there because Liam is no longer really his to claim.

Maybe he never really was, and that’s something that hits Zayn hard in the chest.

“Sorry,” Zayn tells him with a sheepish smile and a shrug of his shoulders.

Liam shakes his head, props himself up on an elbow and when he looks at Zayn his eyes are pleading. “No,” he tells him. “Don’t be.”

“I love you,” Zayn says because he feels like they need it, because it’s true despite the fact that the mere thought of Liam makes Zayn’s stomach twist and his heart feel as though it’s about to tear straight through his chest.

Liam sighs and falls back against the pillows before tossing an arm over his eyes to block out the sun peeking in through the windows. Zayn tries to ignore the possibility of Liam trying to block him out as well.

“I know,” comes Liam’s response and it’s tired and Zayn knows it’s not just because it’s 9 am. “I love you, too.”

Zayn waits for _Always_ but it doesn’t come.

+

It’s hard to say when it happened because there’s no timeline. There is an order of events, but it’s not exactly chronological in the sense that you can’t say when.

They both know it started with that drunk phone call from the pub but anything after that is a blur. Zayn knows there was a time when he was so in love with Liam he didn’t know what to do with himself. The mere idea of Liam made his heart swell and his lips stretch so far across his face it bordered on painful. But he didn’t care because it was Liam and Zayn loved him and that was all that really mattered.

He knew there was a time he wanted to climb mountains and shout it out to the world that Liam was his and he was Liam’s and it was the greatest thing in the world.

But then there was also a time when Zayn loved Liam but the feeling sent shivers and chills down his spine; made him want to look over his shoulder and find out who was listening. The idea of loving Liam made Zayn want to hide away because, while it made sense, it was also just something he couldn’t do. It was too good and it was also bad and Liam was his friend before he was anything else and layering and augmenting that relationship was so dangerous.

And all of those things were so intertwined. Nothing happened at one set point so much as dancing and mingling together creating this collage of emotion that Zayn could never even dream of understanding.

He knew Liam felt it too. Zayn would catch him staring and he could feel Liam’s eyes on him searching and wondering if everything was real; if they were really in this and together or if they were simply playing house and dancing around issues because they didn’t want to lose that old feeling of being so young and in love and lacking any sort of care in the world.

It’s hard to say when it happened because you don’t just wake up one day not loving the person lying next to you the way you used to.

+

“You and Liam,” Harry says.

Zayn swipes at his phone, watches the bird fly across the screen before glancing up at Harry. His heart rate speeds up at the sound of Liam’s name, but he schools his face into something neutral and hopes Harry doesn’t notice. “Yeah?”

“You guys are… different,” he observes. “Something wrong?”

Zayn shrugs his shoulders, going for nonchalant; like it doesn’t even matter even though he knows he hasn’t said more than a few sentences to Liam over the past three days. “No. I mean… we’re just… it’s just one of those times,” Zayn tries. “You know how it is.”

Harry nods, his face sympathetic. “Yeah,” he says. “Relationships are tough like that.”

Zayn smiles, or tries to, and goes back to looking back at his phone even though he’s not even remotely interested in the birds and how angry they are. Harry understands, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t know Liam and Zayn; not really. Maybe individually, but he doesn’t know them as a pair and he doesn’t know Zayn in relation to Liam and vice versa.

It’s just that Zayn by himself and Zayn with Liam are two completely different people. Zayn can be by himself and feel happy and on top of the world and like everything is under control and then Liam walks into the room and his whole body turns to jelly. He’s confused and overwhelmed because Liam makes him feel so much that Zayn doesn’t even know what to do.

And that’s the whole problem.

Zayn doesn’t know what to do.

Liam was wanting something so much for so long and then finally being able to have it and not knowing what to do. Zayn loved him and then fucked him and then loved him some more – even more so than before – and then he didn’t know what to do.

Liam is just there and Zayn can believe it, but then it also can’t possibly be true. It can’t last because things like this, stories like Zayn and Liam, they don’t happen in real life. Not really; something always goes south.

“You and Liam are strong,” Harry tells him when he notices Zayn’s silence. “Whatever you guys are going through… you’ll make it through.”

And Zayn smiles because Harry is so naïve and hopeful. He wants to believe him, but Zayn can’t remember a time when he wasn’t so confused. When he didn’t wake up and wonder why Liam even bothered with staying the entire night. There wasn’t a time when Zayn loved Liam and didn’t question why Liam loved him back or why he’d done it for so long.

There wasn’t a time when “why” had never been an issue

+

It’s one of their days off and it’s raining.

Zayn is sitting in the living room flipping through an old Stephen King novel he’d found lying around in the bookshelf when Liam emerges from the bedroom, hair disheveled from sleep and wrapped up a blanket. Zayn looks up at the sound of footsteps and a smile finds his lips at the sight of Liam, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Liam smiles back and waves, but Zayn can see that he’s not as bright as he used to be; it’s different.

“What’re you reading?” Liam asks, crossing the room and taking a seat next to Zayn on the couch.

“Nothing, really,” Zayn says, closing the book. “Just flipping through is all.”

Liam leans forward, cranes his neck to see the spine of the book. “The Shining?”

Zayn shrugs. “Found it on the bookshelf.”

“Didn’t know you liked Stephen King.”

Zayn tosses the book onto the coffee table and folds his legs, one over the other, on the couch. “There are a lot of things you don’t know,” he says offhandedly.

Liam frowns, pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “About you?” He asks.

Zayn sighs, shakes his head because he really isn’t sure what he’s getting at. Everything just feels so foreign all the time. He looks at Liam and doesn’t know who he’s looking at aside from a boy he fell in love with forever ago. Only Liam doesn’t seem to be that person anymore. Somewhere along the line they got lost or they grew apart or… Zayn doesn’t know. There’s just a disconnect; they’re broken and Zayn doesn’t know how to put them back together.

“About me,” he says finally. “About us…”

Liam shifts, turn toward the window to look at the rain; focuses on the soft patter of it hitting the glass. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me too, I guess.”

It’s quiet and Zayn can see where this is going. He sees it and it’s not even completely surprising because he’s been waiting for it all along. From the moment he picked up that phone outside of the pub with Niall until now it’s just been waiting for the inevitable. There had always been that itching feeling of too good to be true, of things getting too hard or confusing, of not knowing to do with something you’ve been dying to have for so long. There was always that issue of loving Liam too much and just not knowing how to handle it.

“You know I love you, right?”

Liam turns to Zayn, smiles, and he knows it too. It hurts, knowing that this is kind of it. This is them and where they stand; it’s love and letting go and knowing things were good while they lasted.

“I know…” he says with a slight nod of his head.

Liam looks at Zayn and thinks of where it began and wonders where exactly it ended, but soon realizes that none of that really matters. It’s kind of like them; it is what it is and that’s all there is to it. You can’t really pinpoint a time and say “this is when I loved you and this is where that changed” because it’s all so fluid and it blends together in the same way they did. They loved each other and they changed each other and somewhere along the line they grew out of that as well.

Liam thinks back to the early hours of the morning and Zayn holding him close and singing, voice barely above a whisper (“ _you are my sunshine, my only sunshine…”_ ) and making everything so warm and at home. And Liam thinks that’s exactly it is… or what it was.

Zayn was the sun and every day the sun rises and it sets and, at some point, you always have to say goodbye. It’s bittersweet in some ways, seeing something greet you with such warmth only to watch it fade away later on, but that doesn’t make the experience any less beautiful or worth it.

Liam’s head falls to Zayn’s shoulder and he can feel where Zayn’s arm reaches out to pull Liam a little closer as an intense feeling of melancholy fills the room.

And they sit in it; embrace it; enjoy it while it lasts.

“I love you too,” Liam says. “Always.”


End file.
